Welcome to the Darkness of Our Lives
by Shadyyyy
Summary: When two wildly different friends from Boston with a shady past come to Kadic, they meet Odd and Ulrich and become fast friends. But these two have secrets threatening to be revealed, more violently than their new friends ever thought possible. Rated T for Strong Violence and Langauge
1. Arrival

**So, in this story the Lyoko Warriors are 18 and seniors. Yumi is 19, but she got held back a year due to bad grades. When Christian and Henry are alone together, they are speaking English (unless otherwise noted) and when they are not alone they are speaking French (unless otherwise noted). Here are my OC's descriptions:**

**Christian Morrison**

**Age: 18**

**Hair: Buzzed, dirty blond. **

**Height: 5'11''**

**Eyes: Blue**

**Outfit: Short-sleeved, black button-shirt, with a black wife-beater underneath, and blue jeans.**

**Shoes: Yellow Dwyane Wade Hyperdunks.**

**Night Outfit: White wife-beater and boxers**

**Accessories: Small, silver hoop earrings in either ear and a stud next to the one in his left. Also wears a digital watch on his right wrist, and a rather expensive-looking silver bracelet on his left, with a silver chain around his neck, dangling above his wife beater. In addition, he wears a heavy silver ring on the ring finger of his left hand, and one on the thumb of his right. When he is outside, he usually wears a Boston Red Sox baseball cap to support his hometown.**

**Other Info: Christian is left-handed. He has two tattoos: one of a death bat on his hand and another of a stylized "B" on the left side of his neck, for Boston. He has several scars on his back and chest from gunshot wounds. He also has some scars on his right arm from cutting, but does not try to hide it since he is not ashamed of them. He plays basketball and practices Pencak Silat with Henry. He is an avid skateboarder, and does it with Henry. He smokes cigarettes, and does not care what anyone thinks about it. Christian is fluent in French, thus allowing him to attend Kadic.**

**Personality: Flashy, and shades of a depressed soul. Does not seem depressed very often, and only Henry can tell when he is. **

**Henry Wolfe**

**Age: 18**

**Hair: Short and jet-black, almost unnaturally so.**

**Height: 6'1''**

**Eyes: Green**

**Outfit: Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt with a zip-up TAPOUT sweatshirt over it, and blue jeans.**

**Shoes: Black Vans.**

**Night Outfit: Green Day T-shirt and boxers.**

**Accessories: Thin black ring on the ring finger of his right hand. **

**Other Info: Henry (like Christian) plays basketball, skateboards, practices Pencak Silat, smokes cigarettes, and is fluent in French. He has a scar on his right temple from being grazed there by a bullet. **

**Personality: Introverted and withdrawn, he doesn't say much. When he does say something, it is usually meaningful or important. He has bouts of bad depression. **

**Anyway, Now that that's out of the way, on to the story!**

Chapter One: Arrival

Christian Morrison and Henry Wolfe got off the bus and stretched their arms and legs. It had been a long ride from the airport. They walked toward the gates of Kadic Academy, and gazed at the place that would be their home for senior year. It looked very old, but still decent. They could scarcely believe what a whirlwind this year was. Just a few months ago they were getting high at Hempfest in Boston Common, and now they're thousands of miles away in an unfamiliar place. Christian and Henry left Boston behind for a better life in Europe. They planned to live in Europe after they graduate, and maybe explore the continent. But for the next 10 months, this was their home.

* * *

Christian and Henry walked into Mr. Delmas' office and sat down in the two chairs in front of his desk. He looked mid-forties, and had a weird-looking beard. Next to him stood a younger, but not by much, teacher in a red tracksuit and a bandage under his left eye. _He must have been in a fight,_ Christian thought. _We know how he feels._

"Congratulations on being accepted and welcome to Kadic Academy. I am Mr. Delmas, the Headmaster. I managed to find you a double room so you two can be roommates. I'm sorry if things seem a bit rushed, but given your situation, all this was done in a hurry. Jim here will explain the policies to you, and show you to your room. Jim?" Mr. Delmas motioned to Jim.

"Affirmative, Mr. Delmas!" Jim barked like he was in basic training. Mr. Delmas sighed. Christian could not help but chuckle at this guy. "Morrison and Wolfe, follow me!"

* * *

After arriving in the dormitory building, Christian and Henry approached the door the Jim stopped at, and as he opened the door they gazed inside. It was pretty basic, with one bed on either side of the door, and a desk on both sides as well. _This is so bare; we'll have to get this room looking good, _Christian thought.

"Where's our stuff?" Christian asked Jim, who was walking away.

"Being brought up. It should arrive in a few minutes. I'll leave you two alone." Jim left and closed the door behind him. Christian sat on one bed and Henry on the other.

"So, first impressions?" Christian asked the black-haired introvert.

"It's nice." Henry blankly responded.

"Once we get the posters and our other shit in here this place will be just like Boston again. I might even be able to secure some weed for us, or maybe find a place to skate around here."

"Whatever."

"Look, man. We're far away from all that bullshit now. Away from all those small-time bastards and all the fights, the drugs, everything. You need to come out of your shell, and be social. I told you I'd never let anything happen to you, and that's exactly what I intend to do. We're safe here. All right, man?"

"Whatever you say." Henry laid back and stared at the ceiling.

Christian thought about how they got here. Christian and Henry lived in Boston, in a not-so-nice neighborhood. They met several years back when Christian saved Henry from being jumped by a couple of small-time thugs. They had never left each other's side. Christian later taught Henry Pencak Silat, an Indonesian martial art he practiced, and also taught him French. Henry was a pacifist, and didn't like to fight, but soon realized that there was no room for peace in the dog-eat-dog world that was Boston. They both applied to some private schools in Europe, and were waiting to hear from them when a day that would haunt the both of them forever occurred. One day, while walking home from their old school, a fight broke out between Christian and a random kid who shoved him from behind and was looking for a fight. Then, this kid pulled out a gun and shot Christian five times, and nearly killed him. He was in a coma for several days before awakening. Henry was grazed in the temple by a bullet meant for Christian but was not seriously injured. They both vowed to leave Boston and the country to escape all the hardships. Kadic Academy was the only school that was able to accommodate them on such short-notice.

All of a sudden, there was a knock at the door. "Who is it?" Christian asked.

"Your neighbors!" said a voice from behind the door. "We wanted to make the proper introductions."

"Do you care if they come in?" Christian whispered to Henry, who shook his head. "Come In!"

The door opened to reveal two 18-year-olds that looked dramatically different. One was short for 18, probably about 5'6'', and he had a bizarre hairstyle. It was blond, spiked to a peak, with a purple streak above his forehead. He was wearing a purple sweatshirt advertising DC shoes, and purple bellbottom jeans. _He must be a skateboarder, _Christian thought. _But he looks like a plum._ The other one was taller, even taller than Henry, probably about 6'3, and incredibly muscular. He had brown scruffy-looking brown hair and was wearing a My Chemical Romance: World Contamination Tour T-shirt, and green cargo pants. He looked kind of emo to Christian, but otherwise came off pretty normal.

"So, what do you think of the place?" The short one asked.

"It's pretty old, but I like it. Who are you, now?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm Odd."

"Well, that's perfectly obvious." Christian said.

"Like I've never heard that one before. Are you American?"

"Yeah, what gave it away? The clothes?"

"No, actually," Odd began. "Your accent did. You speak great French, but living in France has given me a great ear for French accents. You're no more French than Avenged Sevenfold."

Christian and Henry looked at each other. "How do you know about Avenged Sevenfold?" Christian inquired.

"I know that tattoo on your hand is a death bat, which is the logo for A7X. Ulrich here and I saw them on their last world tour. We're huge fans of them. By the way, are you going to introduce yourselves?"

"I'm Christian, and he's Henry. He's pretty shy and only really talks to me, so don't try to socialize with him too much."

"As I was saying, I'm Odd Della Robbia, and this is Ulrich Stern."

"Hi." Ulrich greeted.

"So, how do two Americans end up at a boarding school in France?" Ulrich questioned.

"Long story. So, Henry and I met under a series of bizarre circumstances that ended with this." Christian took off his two shirts to reveal his heavily scarred chest and back. Odd and Ulrich cringed at the sight of the gunshot wound scars. "So, naturally we vowed to leave the United States to escape the crap that was plaguing us there. Kadic was the only place that would take us in on such short notice. So, that's how we ended up here." Christian put his two shirts back on and sat down back on his bed. Everyone was startled by a loud rap at the door.

"What?" Christian yelled.

"Stuff here for Christian Morrison and Henry Wolfe!" The four teens walked outside to discover several suitcases and a few posters sitting in the hallway. The person who had brought up their belongings walked away. There were four posters: An Avenged Sevenfold "City of Evil" one and a Pulp Fiction one belonging to Henry, and a Linkin Park poster along with a framed picture of Christian with M. Shadows and Synyster Gates of Avenged Sevenfold right next it. There was also a stereo system next to the suitcases.

"That's a lot of stuff," Ulrich pointed out. "You guys need help settling in?"

"Uh, yeah. We wouldn't mind that. We'll take the posters in first, I guess."

* * *

After the room was set up to their liking, the four new friends sat in the room and started talking about Avenged Sevenfold.

"So, what's your favorite A7X song?" Christian asked to Odd and Ulrich.

"Beast and the Harlot. For sure." Said Odd.

"I Won't See You Tonight, Part One. That song is fucking amazing. I mean really, the band was so good on Waking the Fallen that I almost couldn't believe how drastic a change they made on City of Evil. Not that City of Evil wasn't excellent, because it was." Ulrich replied. "What's yours?"

"Well, it's constantly changing, but Strength of the World is my favorite at the moment. The riff in that song is so bad-ass. Seize the Day and Buried Alive aren't far behind, though." Christian answered.

"What's his?" Odd motioned toward Henry.

"A Little Piece of Heaven," Henry responded. "It is unlike any song that has ever been made before, and will ever be made again."

"Jesus Christ, man. You got him to talk." Christian was totally surprised.

"Hey, I'm not mute, I just don't like talking a lot. You, on the other hand, talk like a damned motor mouth." Henry snapped.

"He's right, y'know. You do talk a lo…" Odd started to say.

"Shut up," Ulrich interrupted. "You talk more than he does, Odd."

"When's dinner?" Christian got up off the bed.

"Twenty minutes," Ulrich answered. "We got spaghetti and meatballs tonight."

"No shit?!" Odd yelled. "My favorite!"

"Odd, shut the fuck up!" Ulrich hissed at the blonde.

"Let's go then!" The four left the room and headed down to the cafeteria.

* * *

Christian Morrison, Henry Wolfe, Odd Della Robbia, and Ulrich Stern sat down at the table after getting their food.

"So, do you guys speak English, or not very much?" Christian inquired.

**(English)** "Yes, our English is very good, but we don't speak it often." Ulrich answered.

**(English) **"I only know it because of the music we listen to. I fucking hate French music." Odd added.

**(English) **"Really? You don't like Daft Punk?" Christian chuckled.

**(English) **"Fuck that Pharrell and Kanye shit." Odd scoffed.

Everyone laughed. Odd and Ulrich spoke good English, however, their accents made anything they said in it come out unintentionally hilarious.

**(Back to French) **"So, Odd and Ulrich what're your stories?" Christian inquired.

"Well," Ulrich started. "I came here a long time ago, Odd didn't come until much later. He was a pest initially, but we eventually became best friends. Nothing much has changed in a few years, except for some stuff that if some really weird shit goes down, I might tell you about one day. If I'm allowed to, that is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Christian looked at Ulrich with a puzzled expression.

"It means I…" Ulrich was cut off by a voice behind Christian.

"Ulrich, who are these two?"

Christian and Henry turned around and saw two more seniors standing next to them. There was a boy with blonde hair parted down the side, and big, rimmed glasses. He was dressed in a stripped polo shirt with tan khaki pants. He was the one whose voice was heard. _He's a straight-up nerd. These kids hang out with him? _Christian thought. The girl with him appeared to be challenging Odd for the Most Bizarre Hairstyle. She had pink shoulder-length hair, and was dressed as preppy as the one standing next to her.

"Oh, sorry. These are two new kids, Christian Morrison and Henry Wolfe." Odd introduced. The two strangers in a strange land nodded their heads.

"I'm Jeremie Belpois and this is Aelita Stones. Are you two American?"

"Guilty as charged." Christian responded.

"Well, how did you end up here?" Jeremie asked.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Well, maybe another time, then." Jeremie and Aelita walked away.

"Are these your friends?" Christian gave a confused look at Ulrich and Odd.

"Yeah, we're all pretty close." Odd replied.

"You guys have got to be the most diverse group of friends I've ever seen. How'd you hook up with them?"

"Like I said before, maybe someday I'll tell you." Odd looked at Ulrich and they both laughed.

* * *

Later that night in their room, Henry was lying on his bed, reading a book of depressing poetry, but shut it when Christian came back from his shower.

"So, what do you think of these kids?" Christian asked, turning on the stereo, playing "Shattered By Broken Dreams" by Avenged Sevenfold through the iPod attached to it.

"They seem nice. But I feel like they have something to hide. There's no way that those kids just go way back. They must be friends because of a traumatic event or something." Henry answered.

"What, like us?" Christian sprawled out over his bed.

"Exactly. We're the most drastically different people on the planet, and we met through traumatic events. Now we're the best of friends."

"You got a point there man. So, are you going to try for the basketball team?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Probably. I haven't gotten on the court since we got here, so I'm not sure how good I still am."

"We can't tell them the kind of danger they're facing."

"Henry, Marcus is never going to find us in France. Don't you get it? We're thousands of miles away."

"It's not gonna be that hard to find two Americans in France. He has his resources."

"Well, for now, just go to sleep and forget about it." Christian shut the lamp off and went to sleep listening to M. Shadows soothing voice.


	2. Basketball and Inner Turmoil

**A/N: So after hitting a hard patch of writer's block, Chapter Two's finally up!**

Chapter Two: Basketball and Inner Turmoil

Two Days Later

"Get up!" Christian yelled at the sleeping Henry, who hid under the sheets of his bed. "Don't you hear the damned alarm clock?"

"Yeah, I hear it." moaned Henry.

"Then get up, we gotta get to breakfast."

"Whatever. Did you secure any weed yet?"

"No, but Ulrich said he has some. He's gonna give it to me today."

"Cool."

"Get up now! basketball tryouts today, you lazy bastard."

"Shut up."

"Just be there on time, understand?"

"Whatever." Henry got out of bed and headed to the showers.

* * *

Later, in the gym's locker room, Christian and Henry were changing into their gym clothes when they were approached by Odd and Ulrich.

"So," Ulrich began, "you guys play basketball?" Christian and Henry looked up from tying their shoes and saw they two standing in front of them.

"Yeah, you guys do, too?" Christian said.

"Oh yeah. We're both really good." Odd answered.

"You must be damn good if you're that short."

"I guarantee you if we both make the team, I'll have more points and assists than you." Odd bragged.

"Wanna put some money on it?"

"Damn right I do! 20 euro?"

"You're on. I'll show why being short in basketball is a bad thing." Odd shook hands with Christian, and the four proceeded to the gym.

* * *

"Alright, welcome to basketball tryouts. Kadic's proud to have you all here. I'm going to call you one by one and have you show us your stuff. Odd Della Robbia, front and center." Jim blew his whistle, and tossed Odd the basketball. He showed off his crossover and dribbling abilities, and shot a few three pointers, making them. But the real surprise came when he stood behind the three-point line, and shot it straight up in the air, ran to the net, jumped high into the air, and dunked the ball into the net.

Peoples' jaws just about dropped that a guy 5'4'' dunked the ball in front of them. Christian, Henry and Ulrich looked at each other in disbelief. _Damn, how can I possibly top that?_ Christian thought. _Sure, I can dunk, but I'm 5'11 and muscular. That Odd is thin like a twig. How the fuck does someone like that dunk? _

Jim was impressed. "Well done, Della Robbia, have a seat. Ulrich Stern, you're up next." Ulrich got up when Jim blew his whistle. Ulrich was the strongest and tallest kid at Kadic, and knew he was too. Jim tossed him the ball and he did about the same as Odd did, however he focused more on ISO or pressure shots and mid-range jumpers. To finish off, he threw the ball into the air. To everyone's, including Odd's, amazement, he performed a 360 mid-air dunk. After he came down from the rim, he walked over to Odd and whispered, "You may be able to dunk at 5'4, but you'll never be better than me." Ulrich sat down and smirked at Odd.

"Christian Morrison." Christian was nervous, but kept his cool as the ball was thrown to him. He stepped up to the three-point line. He looked around at everyone in the gym, and assumed shooting postion. He hit his first three. And another one, and another. He just kept hitting them. After his tenth one made in a row, he shot another. Christian knew it was going to miss, so he ran to the hoop as quick as he possibly could and then jumped high into the air and dunked the ball as it bounced off the rim. The whole gym thundered in applause.

"Wow. That was quite impressive. You're going to be my first-string shooting guard if I have my way about it." Jim complimented.

"Thank you sir." Christian said and sat back down.

"Henry Wolfe, get over here. Show us what you're made of." Henry collected the ball from Jim and did several different dunks to show that he was a great post player. He also showed off his fade-away jumper as well. Jim was impressed, and told him to sit back down.

"So, you trying to be a center or something?" Christian whispered in Henry's ear.

"Yeah, and I assume you wanna be a shooting guard?" Henry whispered back.

"You guess correct. Hey, you wanna get high later? Ulrich gave me the weed just now. I was thinking we could all hook up or something."

"That sounds fine. We can meet them after dinner."

* * *

That night, after grabbing Odd and Ulrich, they headed to the park near the school. Christian and Henry brought a bowl and a pack of cigarettes to wash the weed down with. Ulrich and Odd were both had coats on, since it was somewhat cold.

"So why does Henry not talk a lot?" Ulrich asked.

"His personality, I guess. We're both kind of emo. Look at this." Christian rolled up his sleeve to reveal his cutting scars.

"God damn. Do you still cut?" Ulrich asked.

"Yeah, but not often. I smoke more than I cut. Speaking of which, let's get this party started." Christian pulled out the bag of weed and stuffed it into the bowl. Sometimes he was always thinking about what he would do if he had never met Henry. That dude was his best friend and one of the only ones that understood him at a deeper level. People looked at Christian funny all the time. They saw him as the weird kid with the creepy tattoo and the piercings who looked like he would beat your ass if you messed with him. But after he saved Henry, the black-haired teen immediately saw right through the personality he exhibited and learned who Christian Morrison really was: an honest, loyal person.

Christian held the bowl to his mouth and lit it, taking a large inhale. "Here." He handed the bowl and lighter to Ulrich and Odd, who both took hits.

Christian thought a lot about what Henry didn't know about him. For instance, he never Christian was victim of sexual abuse, so severe that he took it out on himself. That's another thing Henry didn't know: the cutting was not because he was just depressed. Well, in a way it was, but that at the same time, not directly. Christian had also attempted suicide a grand total of three times. The first was bleeding to death by cutting too deep. The next time, he tried to hang himself, but someone found him and saved him. The final time was through a bottle of Tylenol, and that put him in a sleepy, dream-like state where he saw the most horrifying thing he ever witnessed. He entered Hell and had a conversation with Satan, who invited him to join him on a quest to kill all of God's children. When Christian said no, he was burnt to death in Hell. After waking up from that horrible nightmare, he found himself in the hospital. After recovering, he quickly discovered he would be committed to a psychiatric ward. Christian met all kinds of people there, but after leaving, he swore he would not end up like them. He would not be dead, or dead inside. So he never tried suicide again. After he met Henry and found someone who understood him, he also saw no reason to.

"Earth to Christian!" Odd said. "Pass the bowl."

"Sorry, Odd." Christian said, handing Odd the bowl. "I'm just a little out of it."

"You mean high?" Ulrich inquired.

"No, not yet anyway. I just have a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"I'm just remembering things in my life I try not to remember."

"Then why are you?"

"Nothing ever leaves me. I can't forget things I want to forget."

"I can understand that," Ulrich started. "My dad is so omnipresent in my mind. I want to just forget about him, but can't since he is always type-A about me. He's like a shadow. What about your parents?"

"I never knew them, really. They both died when I was young. They were both really rich and well-known. My dad was the CEO of the biggest equity firm in the world, and did a lot of deals with French schools and colleges. My mother was a top-tier accountant, and they both died in the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. They left me a lot of money when I turn twenty-one. Until then, I'm lucky Delmas knew who my dad was and let me come here. "

"Wow. Henry, what about yours?"

"My parents were murdered by Whitey Bulger. Do you know who that is?" Henry asked.

"No." Odd and Ulrich said in a chorus.

"He was the most notorious mob boss in Boston. Interpol just found the bastard."

"Wow, so you guys have been through heavy shit." Ulrich remarked.

"We sure have. Are you guys high yet?" Christian asked.

"Yeah, let's get back to school." The four started walking back to Kadic while they continued talking about past lives.

* * *

In Odd and Ulrich's room, Odd came back from the showers to find Ulrich sitting at his desk in his boxers and wife beater doing his homework.

"What do you think of these two?" Odd asked.

"They certainly are strange." Ulrich responded, turning around in his seat.

"So are we though, Ulrich." Odd had a point there, Who could have believe that Ulrich and Odd, two polar opposites, would be probably the closest friends at Kadic.

"Damn, they both are really good ball players. We're going to kick so much ass this year, and I am pumped. Henry is such a good dunker, and Christian's three-pointer? Forget about it." Ulrich couldn't believe how good these two were. What was most surprising to him was that Odd could dunk and didn't tell him. Odd normally brags about everything, but this time, he actually didn't try to rub it in his face.

The two teens just relaxed for the rest of the night thinking about their new friends and the mystery that surrounded them.

**A/N: So, what do you think so far? R&R. **

**By the way, for all you English-speaking Code Lyoko fans, you should jump on codelyoko .fr because they just finished translating some of the Code Lyoko novels that were initially only in Italian, but they have managed to some of them. There were four of them, and i'm not sure how many have been completed, but i know at least the first is up today.**


	3. The Sharpest Lives are the Deadliest

**BTW, I don't take OC requests only because I'm set on where I want my story to go and I don't like to deviate. The antagonist of this story (besides XANA of course) is this dude right here:**

**Marcus Ransom**

**Age: 18**

**Height: 6'**

**Hair: Black, slicked back with a lot of gel.**

**Eyes: Black**

**Outfit: Black sleeveless shirt showing off how strong and muscular he is, black jeans.**

**Shoes: Black Nike Air Jordans**

**Accessories: Sleeves of tattoos on both arms, and has gauged earlobes (size 20), with black earplugs. He also has a snakebite piercing on his lip. **

**Other Info: Marcus is a violent and sadistic individual who has killed several people who messed with him or looked at him the wrong way. His weapon of choice is his fists, but has been known to use a baseball bat on occasion. He carries an intricate-looking and sharp switchblade on his person at all times. He is the chief drug dealer in downtown Boston, and is not afraid of exerting even the slightest hints of his power. Marcus may be young, but is feared all around Boston for his ruthless and total control over the Boston drug scene. **

**Personality: Sociopathic and sadistic, and will pursue a malcontent to the ends of the earth. He never forgives, and never forgets. **

**Anyways, this next chapter will be long, and will explain the entire backstory of Christian and Henry. So without further ado, here is chapter three.**

Chapter Three: The Sharpest Lives Are the Deadliest Ones We Lead

_Eight Months Ago_

_A young man with a creepy-looking tattoo on his hand sat down at a bench in Boston Common, looking over the shallow pool that in the winter is used for ice-skating. He pulled out a half-smoked pack of cigarettes, put one between his lips and lit it with a yellow disposable lighter. Taking a drag off of it, he blew smoke into the air. He pulled out his phone and texted a number he would text only for business. This number belonged to Marcus Ransom. He and Christian went to school together but weren't particularly close. But after Christian proved his worth unintentionally by knocking out several people during a fight at a streetball game (Which Marcus noticed), Marcus and Christian eventually struck up an initially strictly-business relationship. Soon, they took control of the Boston drug scene by storm, putting many competitors out of business. Marcus supplied the man-power, and Christian supplied the intellect, as he was an exceptional science student and loved chemistry and botany. _

_Christian was well aware of Marcus' psychopathic tendencies. That's why he was sure to be on Marcus' good side. Once you piss off Marcus Ransom, you're dead. Everyone in the neighborhood heard about what he did to an employee who wanted his own slice of the enterprise. That unlucky bastard, Quinn MacDonald, had his thumbs cut off by Marcus' switchblade. After that, nobody ever saw Quinn again. Rumor has it that Quinn went over to Randolph to start his own business over there. _

_Today, Christian was waiting for Marcus to show up in the Common so Christian could deliver the money from the deal he conducted with the Asians from Quincy._

_"Hey, you should be careful what you smoke," Said a voice from behind the bench. "The Jews from Randolph put a hit on me and you. Those guys are crazy and creative motherfuckers. You could be smoking arsenic and you wouldn't even know it." Christian turned around and saw Marcus standing there in all his tough glory._

_Christian smiled and shook hands with his associate and boss. "How ya doin, brother?"_

_"Good, man. Good."_

_Marcus sat down next to him. "Can I bum a smoke?"_

_Christian held out his pack and offered him one. "Thanks." Christian held out his lighter and lit Marcus' cigarette._

_"You got the cash?" Christian nodded and handed him a satchel that was sitting under a bench. _

_"Damn, how much?" _

_"75K." Christian lit another cigarette._

_Marcus opened the satchel and started digging through the cash. Marcus took out several stacks of hundred dollar bills and gave it to him. _

_"35K for you. I'll see you in a few months for the Alewife job."_

_"Thanks, man." The two shook hands and Marcus walked away, satchel under his arm._

_Christian got up and walked toward Park street station. He had to take the subway in order to get home. He entered and walked down the stairs. He was walking down the corridor when he saw a sight he had seen all too often, a fight. There were several enormous black guys beating up a smaller, but still tall, white teen. _

_"Hey!" Christian yelled, getting their attention._

_"Get the fuck outta here, white boy!"_

_"Do you honestly want to beat up this kid? What did he do anyway?"_

_"This nigga looked at us the wrong way. So we showin' him why he shouldn't have done that." The thug then stomped on the kid's arm with a ton of force. The helpless teen screamed in pain._

_"Sounds like a pretty bullshit reason to beat someone up."_

_"Nigga, that's a matter of opinion and I don't give a give a flying fuck about yours!"_

_"Okay pal, now you're insulting me. Do you know who I am?"_

_"No, why don't you tell us, motherfucker!"_

_"I won't tell you, I'll show you." Christian ran toward the three behemoths and they tried to throw the first punch, but he did a 540-crescent kick to the first one's head and knocked him unconscious. The next one pulled out a knife and pointed it at Christian, who took off his shirt and held it between his two hands. The goon lunged at him with the knife, to which Christian ducked to the side and wrapped his shirt and around the grunt's wrist. Christian elbowed him the head, kneed him in the groin and grabbed the knife from his hand. With one swift motion, Christian stabbed him right through the hand, and yanked the knife out. The thug cried in agony, and Christian pointed the knife at the last one. He stood there a minute, and then fled. _

_Walking over to the quite-in-pain kid, Christian kneeled down over him._

_"Are you alright?" _

_"No, I think my arm's broken, man." The kid moaned._

_"Get up. I'll get you out of here."_

_Christian pulled the kid's uninjured arm over his head and dragged him out of the tunnel. _

_"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he screamed. _

_"Damn, that probably really is broken; I'll have to get you to a hospital. I know! I'll take you to Mass General. You'll be alright. I'll take the next train and we'll get off at Charles M.G.H. and you'll be fine. _

_The kid was screaming in pain while they were waiting on the platform._

_"Don't think about the pain! Talk to me! What's your name?"_

_"Henry!"_

_"Henry what?"_

_"Henry Wolfe!"_

_"Where do you live?"_

_"Cambridge!"_

_"What's your favorite band?"_

_"Avenged Sevenfold!"_

_"No shit! Mine too!"_

_Christian held the teen as they sat on the bench, Henry had his head buried into Christian's shoulder. The P.A. came on and the automated voice made an announcement: "The next Red Line train to Alewife is now approaching._

_"Hold on, Henry. The train's almost here." All of a sudden, the train zoomed into the station. Luckily, there was no one else there, or in the car they entered. _

* * *

_ As soon as they were in front of the hospital, Christian slammed open the emergency room door and yelled for attention._

_"Nurse, I need some help over here!"_

_Two nurses came out in a hurry._

_"What happened?"_

_"He has a broken arm, minimum."_

_"Okay, we'll take care of it. Who are you in relation to him?"_

_"Just a Samaritan."_

_The nurses took him Henry off Christian's shoulder and got him in a wheelchair, and wheeled him into a room. Christian followed them into the room. The two nurses helped Henry into the bed and promptly left._

_Henry was still screaming in pain "I NEED SOME GODDAMNED MORPHINE!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. _

_"Shh! They'll get you some! Try not to swear, also."_

_"Fuck that shit!" Henry blasted, to which Christian could not help but chuckle at. _

_"Who were those guys?"_

_"Just some bad motherfuckers. They work for Marcus Ransom."_

_Christian was taken aback, but tried to hide it. He couldn't believe he just saved someone from Marcus. Those thugs will surely tell Marcus, and he will definitely kill him and Henry. Christian knew he was screwed the minute he laid a hand on those bastards. Right then and there in that hospital room, sitting next to a screaming, swearing stranger he didn't know, Christian had a moral epiphany. He realized he could live the way he was living. Deep inside, he knew he would die someday. He didn't want to die from being murdered, but wanted to die on his own terms. No one would take his life. He now took his life…for granted. From that moment on, he vowed to do the right thing. He would protect Henry and escape Marcus' murderous wrath. He would just have to watch his back from now on. If Marcus fired upon him, he would fire back. He would have no reservations about killing the prick. He would leave the life of crime and start over again. He came back to earth when Henry asked him a question._

_"Do you know who that bastard is?"_

_"Yes. I work for him."_

_You what?" Henry was now scared shitless at the thought that he was standing next to one of Marcus Ransom's thugs. This guy could kill him at any moment._

_"Not only do I work for him, but I also happen to be his right hand man."_

_"Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK YOU!" Henry bellowed. _

_Christian felt ashamed for the first time in his life that he worked for Marcus._

_"Listen, If he knows that I saved you from him, which by now he probably does, he's going to kill you, and me. So understand that we have to go into hiding."_

_"We? Fuck you!"_

_"Yes, we. I just want to leave this life of crime and start over. You can help me."_

_"Help you? Why?"_

_"Because I can't do this alone. You're the only non-crazy-fucker I know now."_

_"I don't think so. You're just as crazy as the rest of them."_

_"Hey asshole, I just saved your fucking life. The least bit of gratitude you could show would be to help me in return."_

_Henry thought long and hard about it, but agreed. From then on, the two became closer and closer, until they were inseparable. They lived in a safe house over in Hudson, an affluent and far Boston suburb. Henry's arm healed in two months. Luckily, on the day of the Alewife job, Marcus didn't seem to know that Christian was the guy who tuned up his goons. The deal was simple: get to Alewife station at midnight, the Italians would show up, Marcus and Christian would deliver the shit and the Italians would give them the cash._

_Christian arrived at Alewife station. Marcus was waiting for him at the big T, which was an enormous T-logo that was hollow. Marcus sat inside, his face hidden by reflective aviator shades. The two shook hands and waited for the Italians to arrive._

_"These fucking guineas," Marcus began as he looked at his watch. "Never on time."_

_Christian lit up a smoke and said, "Bro, those guys are never on time because even at midnight people drive at 5 miles an hour in Boston."_

_"True, true."_

_All of a sudden, a matte-black Buick pulled up to the curb near the side. The window rolled down as Marcus Ransom and Christian Morrison approached it._

_"Marcus Ransom?" asked the man in the front seat. All of the four men in the car were wearing black trench coats and shades covering their eyes. _

_Marcus nodded and handed him a briefcase. The man opened it and admired the contents._

_"It's beautiful. 200 grand then. See my man in the backseat."_

_The back window opened and out came a duffel bag. The car drove off and into the darkness of the Boston night. Marcus threw the bag over his shoulder and walked the opposite direction that Christian was walking._

* * *

_ Back at their home in Hudson, Christian had just gotten home to find Henry watching TV._

_"How much did you make? Henry asked._

_"100,000 dollars. I think we can leave with that, start a new life. I speak fluent French, so I think France would be our best option."_

_"Well that's good. I'm also pretty fluent as well. How do you know it?_

_"Sometimes you have to do deals with Haitians. Haitians speak French. Helps to know the language. Why do you know it, Henry?"_

_"I took it from middle school on. I'm a fast learner. So, when do we leave?"_

_"Tomorrow. I found this boarding school outside Paris. They've agreed to take us. I had to make up a story about us, though. Hopefully they'll never find out who we really are." _

_They two were startled by a knock at the door._

_"Henry, hide in the basement!" Christian hissed. Henry ran downstairs, out of sight. Christian opened up a drawer to find a Smith and Wesson Ladysmith 9mm sitting there. Grabbing the magazine next to it, he slammed it into the handle and took the safety off. He then stuck it into the back of his jeans and but his shirt over it._

_Christian approached the door and lit a cigarette._

_"Who is it?"_

_"You should recognize this voice." _

Shit,_ Christian thought. _If Marcus found us, he must know. _Christian hesitated, but opened the door to see Marcus standing there._

_"Can I come in?"_

_"Sure thing. You want a cup of coffe? You wanna get high?"_

_"No, man. I actually have to talk to you about something."_

_"What is that?"_

_"Do you know a low-life bitch named Henry Wolfe?"_

_"No, who is he?"_

_"He's this homeless kid who stole money from me. I sent some hard, pipe-hitting niggers to beat his ass to death."_

_"If he's dead, then why are you concerned about him?"_

_"That's just it, bro. He's not dead. Some kid saved him. He took out two huge-ass black dudes single-handly, and stabbed one of them."_

_"Which kid? Like someone who just happened to be there?"_

_"Yeah, he just happened to be there."_

_"Crazy luck. Who is he?"_

_"Well, that's what I came to talk to you about."_

_"Whaddya mean?"_

_"Well the dumbasses said he had a weird tattoo on his hand… of a bat with a skull." Marcus pulled out a pocket-sized Walther PPK handgun, and aimed it Christian._

_"You rotten motherfucker. I should fucking kill you. Why did you save that dirt rat?"_

_"I couldn't see someone die like that, unable to fight back."_

_"What a load of bullshit. You and I have taken care of how many people?"_

_"Too many."_

_"You don't get it, do you? I'm gonna blow your fucking head off, and enjoy every second of it."_

_"No you're not." Henry walked into the room and aimed a handgun at Marcus from the side._

_"Well, well, well. Henry Wolfe. You're very lucky that Christian saved you. I'm sorry to say, but you are not going to be saved this time, you stupid fucking cunt!" Marcus ducked quickly, spun around and aimed at Henry's head, but was shot in the arm by Christian as his gun discharged, grazing Henry's temple. Marcus shot Christian, hitting him in both shoulders and in the stomach. Christian's bullets hit Marcus in the lung, shoulder, and in the ribs (breaking several of them). Despite his injuries and the fact that he bleeding heavily, Christian walked up to Marcus and shot him the chest. Christian was sure he was dead, but did not have time to check his vitals._

_"Henry, get everything! We have to move!" Christian yelled before falling and passing out._

* * *

_Christian woke up in a hospital room. He knew he was at Metro West, but didn't know how he got there. He was in a lot of pain, but could tell he was on something like Vicodin. Whatever the crap was, it was barely making a dent. He had a shitload of IV's hooked up to him as well, and had a nasal canula snaking around his ears. Henry was sitting there, with a stitched-up head._

_"How long have I been out?" Christian groggily asked._

_"Two days."_

_"Two days? Where's Marcus? What happened?"_

_"Marcus is in a coma. The shot to the chest barely missed his heart, but left him in a coma. You were shot three times, and lost a lot of blood. You're going to be fine and out of here in a few days."_

_"What about you?"_

_"Marcus' bullet grazed my temple. I bled a little, but they stitched me up."_

_"Do the doctors know who he is?"_

_"No. I gave a false name and address."_

_"Why wouldn't you just tell them who he is? He'd go to jail for the rest of his life."_

_"He could be in a coma for the rest of his life."_

_"Henry, he wakes up, he's coming after us. No matter where we hide, he'll find us."_

_"He's a vegetable. We're going to leave as soon as you get out of here."_

_"Alright, whatever. Did you hide the money?"_

_"Yeah, it's stashed for when we leave."_

_"I know someone who can get us change for it in euros."_

_"Sounds good to me."_

* * *

_Several days later, the two teens arrived in France. On the plane though, they were shocked to learn that Marcus had awakened from his coma and had escaped from the hospital. He had killed several nurses in his escape. Now they knew it was only a matter of time before he came looking for them. Christian and Henry made sure that they would not be seen very well. Henry dyed his naturally brown hair jet-black. Christian dyed his hair blond from its natural ginger. He also changed his clothes from his usual white to all black. Christian also planned to purchase a handgun in case Marcus ever showed up with one of his own. They would always be ready for him._


	4. Who Are You?

Chapter Four: Who Are You?

Odd and Ulrich had scheduled some time in the gym for a pick-up basketball game, and invited their two new friends to play with them. Christian was there pretty early, and they were waiting for Henry to show up. He was late as usual

Henry arrived in the gym to find Christian, Odd, Ulrich, a black kid named Christophe and this punk-looking kid named William there. William's apparently cool with the other two, so Henry didn't ask any questions.

"What should the teams be?" asked Ulrich.

"I got this man, don't worry. I'll take Ulrich and Christian." Odd officiated.

"That's fine. We're gonna school these kids." William taunted.

"Who is this jag-off?" Christian whispered in Ulrich's ear.

"He's cool, man. But he plays basketball kinda dirty."

"He plays dirty on me and he's getting knocked the fuck out, I don't care who he is."

Ulrich sighed and took the ball from the rack and walked over to the baseline. He passed the ball to Odd, who crossed over Christophe, and threw the ball in the air to Christian who dunked it and jumped down.

"Two nothing, boys." Odd posterized.

"I'm gonna dunk so hard on you won't know what hit you." William responded.

"We all know you're the only one here who can't dunk." Odd said.

William angrily inbounded to ball to Christophe and shoved Odd as he ran by him. Christophe tossed the ball to Henry who performed a standing dunk and handed the ball to Christian. He threw a long pass to Ulrich, who shot a three and made it, further annoying William.

The score was now 20-20, and the next basket was going to win. Christian was running with the ball, and was just about to lay it in when…

_Oomph! _William elbowed Christian in the stomach in mid-air, knocking him to the ground.

"Stay out my way, bitch. I own you!" William yelled.

"That was a flagrant fucking foul, you cocksucker!" Christian shouted as he jumped up and punched William in the jaw. The downed punk laid there for a minute, then jumped up and lunged for Christian. They both were restrained by everyone else. The two continued yelling at each other.

"What the fuck do you call that shit?" William hollered.

"Payback, asshole!"

"You're lucky these guys are here to restrain me, you faggot!"

"I'm gonna rip your fucking head off for saying that!"

**(English) **"I would love to see you try, fucking Irish pussy!" William was from Scotland, so English was his first language.

**(English) **"That's it, that's fucking it!" Christian broke free from Odd and Ulrich, and grabbed William by the shirt and threw him to the ground. Sitting on top of him, he punched the punk three times in the jaw. The punk jumped up and shoved Christian with both hands.

**(Back to French) **"ENOUGH! Get the hell away from each other! Break it up!" Ulrich screamed at the top of his lungs, while getting between the two combatants.

**(English)** "Keep your fucking hands off me." William said, pointing at Christian with his index finger as he walked to the locker room.

**(English)** "Fuck off," Christian shot back, giving him the finger. "Try not to suck any dick on the way to the locker room, you fairy!" William gave a finger behind his back. Sighing, Christian turned to Odd.

**(French) **"What were you thinking?" Odd asked.

"Fucking kids think they're tough. They don't know tough." Christian took off his jersey and threw it at Odd.

"You know, you're a real hothead, man!"

"How is it hotheaded if some limey motherfucker shoves me? You saw that shit, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything. He just plays dirty."

"You play dirty in basketball, you get fucking hit. Enough said. That kid's a punk and is lucky that's all I did. "

"Jesus, you could have at least just told him not to do that."

"Fuck off. Leave me alone."

That night, in Odd and Ulrich's room, the spike-haired teen walked in and sat down on his bed.

"Ulrich?" Odd called his friend, who was lying on his bed pretending to be asleep.

"What?" moaned Ulrich, who sat up.

"These two kids, I don't know. Something's up with them. There's something they're not telling us. They seem so shady. I'm gonna search their room tomorrow, and find out what's going on with them."

"You really think that's a good idea?"

"No, but I'm tired of trying to figure it out."

"Whatever. I won't be there to help you if they find you and punch you."

"Shut up." Odd rolled over and went to sleep.

The next day, Odd did what he said he was going to. When Christian and Henry were getting ready, he picked the lock of their room, and entered. The room seemed pretty normal. He opened Christian's drawer under his bed and found nothing of particular interest. He opened Henry's bed's drawer and also found nothing. He opened Christian's wardrobe and found a box with a lock on it. Picking that lock, he found three bags. One was full of weed, one was full of…

"Teeth? What the fuck?" Odd examined the bag of bloody extracted teeth. The other bag was bloody as well, and looked to be full of human fingers or something.

Odd was stunned and couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"So, what do you think, Odd?" Odd turned around to see Christian and Henry there. They were both wearing leather gloves and bags over their shoes. Christian was holding a gun with a silencer in his hand, and it was aimed at Odd.

"What's this about? Who are you?"

"To you, we're Christian Morrison and Henry Wolfe. But after we're finished with you and your friend, we're going to be Ulrich Stern and Odd Della Robbia."

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"See, we weren't going to do this right away, but you found out our secret."

"You won't get away with this, Christian!"

"My name is Odd." Christian raised the gun and fired a single shot at Odd's head. The Lyoko Warrior's brains were blown onto the window behind him. He slumped to the ground, a look of shock on his lifeless face.

"Let's get this shit sorted out, we don't have much time. Get the cleaners. Lock that fucking door!"

**A/N: Okay, a lot of you are probably going "What the hell was that?" well here's the deal. That was the big plot twist in my story. Christian and Henry are not really Christian and Henry. Their real names are Sean O'Connell (Christian) and Patrick Connelly (Henry). They are serial killers who will stalk and murder two random guys and steal their identities, and live their lives like they were them. They even change their appearances to match what the pair they kill look like. Their entire personalities and interests change to whoever they are pretending to be. Christian and Henry were their last victims. They are indeed from Boston, but the entire backstory I created for them… was a lie. Marcus the big drug kingpin was a lie. All the different stories they told were lies. They were all total lies designed to throw you off the big twist. The teeth and the fingers are cut from their victims to prevent the original owners from being identified. They actually serve more as "trophies" because those bodies are burned anyway. From now on, these two will be referred to as Sean and Patrick. They moved to France as part of Christian and Henry's actual plans before they were killed. Oh and btw, Christian and Henry's initial descriptions, info, and personalities were theirs, but are what Sean and Patrick have adopted in living their lives. Think of these two psychos as chameleons. They have done this about eight other times. When they get bored of living one pair of lives, they move on to another. They are actually both 24-years-old.**

**Well I hope that covers most of any plot holes I created. **

**Anyways, R&R!**


	5. The Clearing

**A/N: Again, if that caught you off-guard I sincerely apologize, but I wanted to genuinely shock every single one of you. So, where do we go from here? Well time for all the action and suspense to kick in! Remember, from now on Christian = Sean, and Henry = Patrick.**

**Oh, and sorry BreadLoaf. As one of my favorite reviewers to read, I feel guilty if I write in a way that isn't what you desire. That being said, when I start writing something, I know where I'm going and i don't like to deviate. **

**And about the rating, There are way more graphic things that are T. In my opinion, the M section should be reserved only for Lemons and torture porn. Other than that, if its just some garden-variety violence and harsh language, i'm not going to restrict my writing to only people looking for M stories.**

**One more thing, now that the twist has finally been revealed, I can do this…**

**WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH APPROACHING. And also the total body count (not counting the killers' earlier victims) will be seven. Anyways, onto the story.**

Chapter Five: The Clearing

Ulrich woke up that morning to find Odd's bed empty. After getting dressed and heading to breakfast, he was surprised that he wasn't there either. After he finished eating, Ulrich found Yumi, Jeremy, Aelita, and William sitting over at the bench in the courtyard.

"Do you have any idea where Odd is?" Ulrich asked, approaching the others.

"No. He's probably trying to get some girl." Jeremy answered.

"I'm starting to worry. The last thing he said was he was going to the two Americans' room two find out 'what they were hiding' or something like that."

"Well, why don't you check up there?" Yumi motioned.

"You know what? I think you're right. I'll go there now."

"I'm coming with you," William announced.

"Fine, let's go."

* * *

William and Ulrich walked up to the two Americans' door and knocked on it.

"What?" Sean asked.

"It's Ulrich. Can we talk for a minute?"

"Sure." Sean opened the door. Upon seeing William there, he almost lost it. "What's he doing here?"

"I don't want to fight right now. We just wanted to ask you something."

"What?" Patrick jumped up from his bed and stood next to his partner-in-crime.

Ulrich sighed. "Have you seen Odd?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Where?" Ulrich breathed with relief

"Come with us, we'll take you to him. "

Ulrich and William glared at each other and followed the two out of the dorm.

* * *

Sean and Patrick loved the way they were living. They felt almost "immortal" and it was all Sean's idea. They started as two bored, psychotic high-school kids in Boston. But then Sean wanted to be bigger than his low-key, "ordinary" persona. After roping Patrick into his master plan, they agreed to never leave each other's side. They weren't gay or anything, but some could construe it that away. It was more like a symbiotic relationship. Once they took care of Ulrich, they could move on to the next phase of their plan. They would move to Germany and take over another couple of worthless saps' lives.

They were in the park near the school. The four stopped at a huge hole in the ground, about six feet.

"Woah, when did that hole get there?" William remarked as he gazed at it.

"I dug it." Sean said.

"Why'd you dig it?" Ulrich asked,

"I dug it for you."

"What?" William and Ulrich turned around to see sound-suppressed handguns aimed at their heads.

"Well, I'll be damned. What did you do with Odd?" William interrogated.

"We took care of him."

"What does that mean?" Ulrich sternly inquired.

Sean pulled out a bloody baggie and tossed it to Ulrich, who caught it and examined it.

"What the hell is this?"

"Evidence. It will be buried with you."

"Buried with me?"

"Yes." Sean pistol-whipped Ulrich in the head, knocking him into the hole and into a box.

"Don't move." Patrick pointed the gun at William's head.

"Bury him." Patrick commanded, nudging him with the gun.

* * *

After putting the lid on Ulrich's coffin **(A/N: He's not dead, just unconscious), **and covering up the hole at gunpoint, William Dunbar turned to face the two killers.

"So, what now?" William raised an eyebrow.

"Simple. You die…slow." Sean O'Connell fired his gun twice, hitting the wavey-haired young man in the stomach twice. He collapsed to the ground. While William lay there in an unimaginable amount of pain, the dirty-blond murderer approached his latest victim.

"Collateral damage," was all he said before he turned around and kneeled down. After collecting the shells, the two sociopaths walked away, leaving William to die right above his rival-turned friend.

* * *

_Ten Minutes Later_

William Dunbar lay in a pool of his own blood, thinking there was no way he was going to recover from this. He was mortally wounded, and was accepting death.

Realizing he had a cell phone in his pocket, he pulled out and dialed emergency services.

"Hello, this is Emergency Services. Please state your emergency."

"Hello, my name is William Dunbar, I'm at Kadic Academy. I've been shot. I'm gonna die." William wheezed.

"No, you're not. You're not going to die. Sir, who shot you?"

"These kids who go to my school."

"Who are they?"

"Christian Morrison and Henry Wolfe."

"Okay. Where were you shot?"

"Twice In the stomach, I think."

"Where are you at this moment?"

William could tell he was losing consciousness.

"Tell Jeremie, Aelita, and most of all Yumi that I'm sorry."

With those final words, William dropped the phone and laid back staring at the sun. He took one last breath and whited out.

* * *

_Meanwhile, back at the courtyard bench…_

"God, they're taking an awful long time to ask some questions." Yumi stated.

"Well what if they got distracted? Jeremie proposed.

"By what?"

"Food, girls, Jim." Aelita suggested.

"Doesn't seem likely to take that long."

The three of them looked over to see a loud police car showing up in front of the school with sirens blaring.

"What the hell are the cops here for?"

"Dunno."

Two police actually started walking their way.

"Are they coming this way?" Yumi asked.

"Sure looks like it." Jeremie responded.

Two police officers approached the three teens. One was tall and had a black goatee. The other was shorter and stout, and had a blond beard.

The taller officer spoke. "Are you Jeremie, Yumi, and Aelita?"

"Yes, officer."

"Do you know a William Dunbar?"

"Yes."

"I am terribly sorry, but he's been murdered."

The three expressed a look of sheer terror, sadness, and despair on their faces. They could scarcely believe their friend William was dead. But they still did not know where Odd and Ulrich were. Their minds were racing, especially when coupled with the idea that they could potentially be dealing with three dead friends instead of one.

"By… By who?" Jeremie stuttered.

"William told us before he died that two kids named Christian Morrison and Henry Wolfe did. Do you know them?"

"Yeah, they just moved here from Bost… Hey look, that's them over there!" Jeremie pointed in the direction of two guys walking out of the school.

"Hey!" screamed the taller officer, drawing his firearm from his hip holster. He ran over to the two, attracting the attention of the surprised killers.

"Freeze!" The officer aimed his gun at Sean and Patrick. They put their hands in the air,

"Let me see some ID's! Now!"

"Okay, let me reach into my pocket here to get it. Is that alright?" Sean inquired.

"Slowly. Extra slowly."

Sean reached into his coat pocket and handed the officer his wallet, which contained the real Christian Morrison's driver's license.

The taller officer holstered his sidearm and looked at the ID. While looking at the card, he used his free hand to use the walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

"Dispatch, this is Eagle here. I have confirmation on chickenshit. I repeat, confirmation on chickenshit."

"Do you need my ID, too?" Patrick asked.

"Oh yes. Let me have it." The officer stuck his hand out.

"You asked for it." Patrick with lightning speed reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his gun.

_Thwwp! Thwwp! Thwwp! Thwwp! _All of a sudden, the officer was struck in the chest by several bullets. Sean grabbed his body before he fell, because he knew what was coming next.

The other officer drew his gun and quickly fired several shots at Sean, but they hit his partner's back. If the bullets from Patrick didn't kill him, his partner's sure did the job. The sound of the officer's unsuppressed gunshots sent the entire Kadic campus into chaos. Kids and teachers were clamoring to escape the shootout by running inside.

"Backup, send backup now!" the officer hollered into his walkie-talkie. Those would be his last words, since he did not see the bullet that pierced his head. That bullet was fired by none other than Patrick Connelly. The two killers knew they were nearing their endgame if there were police casualties. They then turned their attentions to the three teens that were making a run for it. They were heading into the woods

Running at full sprint, the two killers with delusions of grandeur pursued the remaining Lyoko Warriors into the forest.

The chase was on.

**A/N: One thing that has kind of become trademark in my stories is killing off William. He is so cocky and arrogant and those are qualities I loathe, but entitle him to a great death. So I kill him off in epic ways. I hate his character on the original show, but he was somewhat redeemed in Evolution. I still find it hilarious how people ship William and the yogurt he's eating in "Cortex". **

**Also, I haven't totally decided on Ulrich's fate yet. R&R**


	6. Asleep or Dead?

**A/N: This Chapter will be really short. In fact, it's the shortest chapter I've ever written for a story. **

Chapter Six: Asleep or Dead?

Ulrich Stern woke up to find himself in a fate he never thought he'd find himself: Buried alive.

What could he possibly do now?

He was in probably a 7' by 2' by 16'' box made of wood. He realized he probably had 45 minutes left to live. Every breath he took led him closer to death, as the coffin would slowly build with deadly carbon dioxide. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Zippo lighter, which he opened and struck the flint by snapping it with his fingers. The dark space was instantly illuminated. Taking a look around, Ulrich examined the situation. He looked down and saw his shoes, and touched his head with his hand, and felt blood flowing down it. _That must be from being hit over the head, _he thought. _This was going to be impossible to escape._ His mind was reexamining what had occurred. These two fuckers had far more than likely killed Odd, and William was mortally wounded and probably dead by now. Ulrich had a feeling he was probably going to be joining them soon.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife that he kept on him. Holding the flame on his chest, he began carving an epitaph into the wood of the underside of the coffin lid.

After he finished, he read what he wrote:

ULRICH STERN AGE 18

I LOVE YOU YUMI

After he was done, he laid his head back, admiring his knife.

**A/N: I told you it would be short. To extend it, here's something for you loyal readers.**

**Here's my fanfic-writing playlist:**

**Avenged Sevenfold – Seize the Day**

**Hell or Highwater – Go Alone (feat. M. Shadows)**

**My Chemical Romance – Famous Last Words**

**30 Seconds to Mars – The Kill**

**Dream Theater – Solitary Shell**

**Nas – The Message **

**Guns N' Roses – November Rain**

**Red Hot Chili Peppers – Otherside**

**Steelheart – She's Gone**

**Green Day – Westbound Sign**

**Relient K – Who I Am Hates Who I've Been**

**Gorillaz – Feel Good Inc.**

**Good Charlotte – The River (feat. M. Shadows & Synyster Gates)**

**Machine Gun Kelly – Save Me (feat. M. Shadows & Synyster Gates)**

**Bleeding Through – Savior, Saint, Salvation (feat. M. Shadows & Synyster Gates)**

**The Network – Roshambo**

**Immortal Technique – You Never Know**

**Eminem – Stan**

**Frank Ocean – Pyramids**

**Tyler, the Creator – She (feat. Frank Ocean)**

**Kanye West & Jay-Z – No Church in the Wild (feat. Frank Ocean)**

**Silverstein – Runaway**

**Ghost B.C. - Per Aspera ad Inferi**

**And of course, Noam – A World Without Danger**


	7. This Is How We Disappear

**A/N: This is the final chapter. And I would like to thank a few people for some assistance in writing this story:**

**My best friend Henry (In no way similar to the one in the story)**

**Agatha Christie, for perfecting the art of the plot twist.**

**Also, LET"S GO RED SOX! THEY're GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!**

Chapter Seven: This Is How We Disappear

Yumi Ishiyama, Jeremie Belpois, and Aelita Schaeffer were running for their lives in the forest, not looking back. They were followed by the two murderers who were determined to kill them. After dashing for what seemed like an eternity, they disappeared into the sewer in an attempt to hide from their pursuers. By the time the crazy bastards caught up, the Lyoko crew was long gone.

Sean and Patrick stopped in the clearing in the woods.

"Shit!" Sean cursed as he kicked the dirt. "How'd you let them get away?"

"I'm just out of shape is all." Patrick scratched his head.

"Well that's a load of bullshit. You're bigger and stronger than me."

"Yeah well that doesn't mean shit, Sean. I'm not the brains of this operation, remember?"

"Fuck you."

"Fuck me? That's all you wanted to do from day one."

"You selfish bastard. I gave you everything. I gave you a home. I gave you your share of the money. How about some gratitude?"

"You know what? You're so convoluted and so crazy that I almost don't even want to run with you anymore. I'm taking my half of the money, and I'm going to Germany. I'll live as Henry Wolfe from now on. Fuck the next half of your plan. I'm out man."

"You're out?" Sean shook his head in disbelief.

"Yeah. And if you ever come looking for me, I'll blow your fucking head off if I even feel your breath within 100 miles of me. See ya, Sean."

Patrick started to walk the other way and had taken about two steps when the front of his forehead was shot off and onto a tree by a bullet fired from behind him. Patrick Connelly didn't even blink. He couldn't believe that Sean O'Connell, his best friend and partner-in-crime, just executed him. The raven-haired killer fell on his face, a large pool of blood collecting around his head.

Sean walked up to his dead partner and shot him a second time in the back of his head. His lifeless body flinched.

"What a damn shame. What the hell happened to you, man?" Sean aimed his gun at Henry's head one more time, only to be interrupted by a hammer clicking.

"Freeze, motherfucker! Drop your weapon!" Ten or twelve police officers surrounded him, guns drawn.

"I cannot do that." Sean refused, holding his gun at his side.

"I will shoot you if you do not drop the weapon."

"Okay, but let me say something first. There are still three missing bodies out there. Ulrich Stern, Odd Della Robbia, and William Dunbar will never be found if you kill me. Know that. Are you willing to kill me knowing you're killing three other innocent people?"

"Bullshit. You're bluffing."

"Maybe I am, but maybe I'm not. So you have to ask yourself a question. Do you trust yourselves? Do you trust me? Who the hell do you trust in this world?" Sean used his other hand to toss the officer a bloody bag of teeth.

"So, are you going to tell us where these people are?"

"You're standing right above one of them. And for future reference, cremate my ass."

"What?" in a split second, Sean raised his gun and managed to get off a single shot before the hail of gunfire erupted. Sean O'Connell's chest was ripped to bloody shreds in seconds as he took at least thirty pieces of hot lead. The last thought that the criminal mastermind of one of the greatest and most creative identity thefts in the world had before he left the earth was that all the pieces of his master plan fell into place.

He had won and the cops had lost.

* * *

Despite their efforts, the police had done what they were trained to do. They felt threatened and used lethal force. Their two suspects were dead and they had no other leads. The police felt so guilty that they could do nothing about the suspected deaths of three seniors. The worst part was informing their families about how their children were dead and there would be no justice. But one thing they never would realize, even after all the vigils, all the darkness, all the constant reminders, and all the hate from their three best friends for failing to catch the killers and find their friends, is that they never listened to the person they shot. They were standing right over one of his missing seniors.

**WELCOME TO THE DARKNESS OF OUR LIVES**

**(c)2013**

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_Help Me... Help Me... Help Me..._


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